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  Carl was probably one of the nicest men she’d ever met. He was polite, charming, intelligent…boring.

  Lela chastised herself for the uncharitable thought. She’d been dating Carl for nearly a year. She would have gone on happily dating him forever, simply for the companionship, but he’d started dropping hints about them moving in together, marriage, kids. The idea of making a commitment to Carl freaked her out. He was fine to hang out with and her friends and family liked him well enough. And he wasn’t the worst lover she’d ever had. She rolled her eyes. God. He wouldn’t thank her for that faint praise.

  He just didn’t make her heart race. She wasn’t counting the minutes until she saw him, and she was perfectly fine if a few days passed without her seeing or speaking to him at all. He’d gone to some bank convention two weeks earlier. He’d come back telling her how much he’d missed her, but the truth was…she hadn’t felt the same. She hadn’t really even noticed his absence.

  To make matters worse, lately they’d fallen into the pattern of him sleeping over without having sex. He didn’t seem to want her with any more passion than she wanted him.

  She missed sex. She missed…

  She shook her head, refusing to think the name, pushing it into her subconscious to that place where she didn’t have to remember, to hurt.

  She pulled into the parking lot next to Sally’s Diner and found a spot near the door. Carl’s car wasn’t there. She killed the engine, sighing heavily. Then she leaned forward, resting her head against the steering wheel.

  Tucker.

  The name came anyway, unbidden. He’d been the ghost haunting her memories for well over a decade. He had—unbeknownst to him—impacted pretty much every relationship decision she’d made since the day he’d walked out of her life.

  Tucker had broken her heart. It was as simple and as complicated as that. He’d really fucked her up. Stolen her virginity, her trust, her naïve view of the world. He’d ripped away every innocence she’d ever possessed.

  And she still couldn’t find it in herself to hate him. Because he’d been just as broken, just as destroyed.

  Maybe even more so.

  She closed her eyes and let herself drift back to that day—that one moment—she’d purposely tried to forget for twelve long years.

  She’d gotten the phone call that would change her life from her friend, Bridget, whose mother was an ER nurse. Lela had struggled to digest the news as she drove to Tucker’s house.

  * * *

  What the hell am I going to say to him?

  As Lela stepped out of the car, she was surprised to find Tucker sitting on the front porch, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed. He was so still she wondered if he’d somehow turned to stone.

  “Tucker?”

  He didn’t move at the sound of her voice, gave no indication he even knew she was there. She approached him slowly, a tiny part of her frightened, which was weird because Tucker was no threat to her. He’d never physically harm her.

  But something in his stiff, rigid posture and the way he didn’t acknowledge her presence told Lela he was going to hurt her.

  When she stood directly in front of him, she said his name again.

  He glanced up. Lela sucked in a quiet, painful gasp as she faced the shattered look in his eyes. She almost didn’t recognize her funny, swaggering, self-confident boyfriend.

  She knelt in front of him, grasping his hands in hers. She was taken aback by how cold they were. It was June in Texas and while the summer hadn’t quite reached its full potential, it was definitely building steam. Even this early in the morning, she was starting to feel sticky and too warm in her shorts and t-shirt.

  “I’m so sorry, Tuck. I came as soon as I heard.”

  He nodded wordlessly. And his silence left her tongue-tied, clueless about what to say next.

  How did you comfort an eighteen-year-old boy who’d just lost his mother?

  Finally, when the awkward silence drifted too long, she said the same thing she’d said before. “I’m just so damn sorry.”

  Lela preferred his silence to the derision that greeted her words. “It’s not your apology to make, Lela. That honor belongs to someone else. And I don’t hear him fucking saying it.”

  Lela bit her lip. Bridget had filled her in on as many details of the accident as she knew. Quinn wasn’t a particularly big town and there weren’t too many people who were not perfectly aware of Mr. Riley’s serious drinking problem. Apparently Nelson, the bartender at Pitchers, had called Tucker’s mom around two a.m., suggesting she come pick up her husband, who was far too intoxicated to drive. Mrs. Riley had gotten out of bed and driven across town to retrieve him. The only thing Bridget knew about the actual accident was that somehow Mrs. Riley had wrapped the car around a telephone pole. She’d been killed instantly.

  “How is your dad?” Lela asked.

  “He’s still in the hospital. The doctors wanted to keep him overnight for observation. That’s their nice way of saying he needed to dry out.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  Tucker snorted, the grief she’d witnessed when she’d arrived slowly replaced with a fury the likes of which she’d never seen. “Yeah. I got the privilege of telling the drunk fucker he killed my mother.”

  There had never been any love lost between Tucker and his dad. Lela had started going out with Tucker their sophomore year and his relationship with his father during that entire time had been strained, to say the least. Lela had tried to talk to him about it a few times, but it was the one subject Tucker was resolutely silent on. He gave her the standard reply of “my dad’s a drunk loser and not worth talking about,” and then he’d change the subject.

  “What are you going to do now?” Lela wasn’t sure how Tucker would survive the loss of his mother. He’d adored the woman, was closer to her than anyone else in the world.

  Tucker shrugged. “I guess I’m going to bury my mom.” Lela winced at his harsh tone, but Tucker continued speaking before she could say anything. “Then I’m going to do the same thing I’d planned to do all along. Get the hell out of this shithole and never look back.”

  He bowed his head, his fists clenched in his lap.

  Lela wasn’t sure how to respond to his heated words. In her heart, she knew he meant them. Fear kept her silent for several moments, but Tucker didn’t seem to notice. He was too lost in his anger, his grief.

  Finally she cleared her throat and forced herself to ask the question. The one that was going to change everything for her. “Never?”

  At that, Tucker’s head rose, his gaze sharpened. For the first time since her arrival, Lela felt as if he was really seeing her. “Lela.”

  She recognized the tone. Could fill in the rest of the words. “Don’t, Tucker.” She raised her hand, hoping to ward off the inevitable. She’d seen this day coming. After all, Tucker had signed on the dotted line with Texas A&M way back in January. A full ride on a football scholarship. Tucker’s feet hadn’t touched the ground for weeks after that announcement. Of course, he was leaving town.

  She’d known since they were fifteen about Tucker’s desire to leave Quinn and to play pro ball. His family couldn’t afford to send him to college and his grades, while okay, sure as hell weren’t going to get him into a great school. Football had been his only way out of town. He’d certainly said that enough times, but in the back of her mind, she’d always imagined him coming home on holidays and the occasional weekend to visit his mother…and her. Lela had always thought they’d keep the relationship going, despite the distance.

  The thought that he never wanted to come back…

  Well…never was a long time.

  “You’ve had a shock today. We don’t need to talk about any of this right now. Give yourself some time to process what’s happened and—”

  “Nothing’s going to change later.”

  She struggled to get air to her lungs. Fear had weakened her breathing. “Tucker. Please.”

  She
didn’t explain her plea. It was clear from his expression he knew what she was asking. It was equally clear he wasn’t going to stop.

  “Lela. I can’t do this anymore. I love you so much it hurts, but we’re not going in the same direction.”

  “We can work it out.”

  He shook his head. ‘We’re eighteen years old. You know as well as I do the odds are stacked against us. Besides, I’m not going off to college then coming back to settle down in Quinn. I’m serious when I say I never want to come back here again. Ever.”

  She winced. As much as Tucker hated Quinn, that was how much she loved it. It was home. The place she wanted to spend the rest of her life. She’d been accepted to Tarleton, preferring a smaller college campus, though she’d certainly considered following Tucker to Texas A&M. Ultimately, her parents convinced her she needed to choose a college based on what was best for her.

  Suddenly she was regretting that decision.

  “I can transfer after the fall semester. It’ll only be a few months and then—”

  “No. You’d hate a school that big. You’re going to Tarleton. And you’re going to stay there. It’s the right place for you.”

  Tears filled her eyes before she could bat them away. Tucker had just lost his mother. The last thing he needed was her hysterics. But she honestly wasn’t sure she’d survive if he broke up with her.

  “Please don’t do this.”

  He reached out, stroking her cheek, wiping away the tears. “We’re the perfect couple, L.B., but that doesn’t change the fact we were never going to go the distance.”

  A sob escaped when he called her by his pet name for her. He’d taken great pleasure in learning her middle name was Beatrice. From that point on, she’d ceased being Lela to him, becoming L.B.

  He tugged on her hands, directing her to the spot next to him on the porch. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his voice quiet as he tried to explain. If she’d been able to speak, she would have told him he didn’t need to bother. But Lela was struggling to accept the truth. Her heart refused to admit defeat even if her head could acknowledge that Tucker was right.

  “You’d be miserable at A&M. And if I manage to catch the eye of the professional scouts, I’m signing and going. My future is football. And when I try to put you in that life with me, L.B., I can’t make it work. You want to live in Quinn and teach kindergartners. That’s your dream. And it’s perfect for you. You’d be unhappy living on the road, and even though you’ve never come out and said it, I know you hate football.”

  She laughed through her tears, sniffling. “Damn. I didn’t realize you’d figured that out.”

  He smiled at her, his same beloved crooked grin. The sight of it sent a fresh round of tears to her eyes.

  “God. I’m so sorry. I can’t stand to see you cry. It’s eating me up inside, Lela.”

  She turned to him, burying her face against his chest, not wanting to add to his pain, but unable to stem the flood. “I don’t want to hurt you, Tucker. And I’m so sorry to fall apart like this.” She wiped her eyes, willing herself to stop crying. After several deep breaths, she felt as though she’d composed herself enough to look at him again. “It’s okay. I get it. I do. It just doesn’t make it hurt less.”

  He tightened his arms around her. “I love you. So fucking much. I always will.”

  “I feel the same.”

  “I’m leaving for school next week.”

  She nodded. She’d had the date of his departure circled in red on her calendar for months. The damn thing had taunted her every time she looked at it, but she’d always consoled herself with the idea that he’d come home occasionally and she’d go visit him. Now that date marked a definite end. There wouldn’t be anything after.

  “So we have one more week.”

  He pulled back until he could see her face. “You’re okay with that?”

  “Jesus, Tuck. You don’t really think I’m going to leave you alone now, do you? Your mom just died.”

  His composure cracked a bit as he bent his head and muttered the word “fuck.”

  It would take time for the reality of that loss to sink in. Lela wasn’t going to leave him to face it alone.

  “I guess I have to talk to someone about planning her funeral. And then there’s her stuff to go through. I…I don’t know how to do any of this.”

  If Tucker’s father had been any sort of decent parent, he’d be here, consoling his son, taking care of the details instead of leaving it all to Tucker. Unfortunately, Tucker had no choice but to step up and take charge.

  “We’ll make a list,” Lela said, standing and offering a hand to help Tucker rise as well. “And we’re calling Coach. Right now. He’ll help us sort it all out.”

  Tucker’s worried expression cleared. “Yeah. Coach. You’re right. He’ll help.”

  * * *

  Lela raised her head from the steering wheel and stared blindly at the diner. Coach had been at Tucker’s house within twenty minutes of their phone call, and he’d guided Tucker and Lela through all the tasks associated with the death of a loved one. Tucker’s dad—true to character—had crawled into a bottle about five seconds after he was released from the hospital, remaining completely shit-faced through it all.

  She’d stuck by Tucker, holding his hand during the funeral, helping him pack up his mother’s clothing for Goodwill. And she had been with him the morning he’d loaded his crappy, ancient Buick with all his belongings.

  Lela wondered what she would give to go back to that one day—that one hour—and rewrite the ending. During that last week, she’d held it together, giving Tucker exactly what he needed, never once alluding to their breakup.

  She’d arrived just as he’d closed the trunk to his car. Tucker had clearly been planning to leave without saying goodbye. She had fallen apart in pure dramatic teenage girl fashion. She’d pleaded with him to change his mind, insisted they could make it work, telling him he was wrong to assume they wouldn’t last. She’d cried, screamed, cursed and even slammed her hands against his chest, but Tucker had held his ground.

  Finally, he had opened the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat—and that was when she’d really lost it, telling him he was a complete asshole, that she would never forgive him, that she would hate him until the day she died.

  Tucker had accepted her venom, his jaw set, his posture stiff. All he’d said was “okay” and then he drove away, never looking back.

  It had taken all of five minutes for the regret to appear. Lela had tried to call him several times a day for over a week. Tucker had never answered the phone. She’d emailed him apology after apology and had even written him several long letters, but he hadn’t responded to any of them.

  She’d spent the remainder of that summer shut up in her room, crying and swearing she’d never fall in love again. Then her freshman year in college began and time went to work, healing the broken pieces, dimming the pain, and even erasing some of the things she’d sworn she would never forget.

  She had moved on. And, though her fondness for football hadn’t grown, she’d never once, in twelve years, missed one of Tucker’s televised games. Not one.

  Lela climbed out of the car and wondered what had prompted that unwanted reminiscence. She supposed it was Coach’s heart attack. Lorelie had mentioned that Joel was contacting some of the guys from Coach’s old state championship team to see if they’d be willing to come back to Quinn for a little while to pitch in at the ranch. Lela hadn’t asked if Tucker had been called. It was too close to training camp starting up. There was probably no way he would come back to help anyway, but Lela still wondered if he’d been contacted, what he’d said, if he’d asked about her.

  She blew out a frustrated sigh. She needed to get a grip. She was here to have a lunch date with her boyfriend, Carl. She was too damn old to keep mooning over a guy who’d probably forgotten she’d even existed. Tucker Riley was a football god, one of the most successful quarterbacks to ever play in the NFL
. No doubt he had beautiful women throwing themselves at him nightly.

  She had just reached the door of the diner when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped as if bitten by a snake.

  Carl reared back. “Damn. I’m sorry, Lela. I was calling your name.”

  She placed her hand on her racing heart and tried to play off her reaction. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Yeah. I see that. You were pretty deep in thought there. Everything okay?”

  She nodded and gave him a breezy laugh that didn’t sound a bit lighthearted to her, but seemed to fool Carl. “Oh yeah. Just trying to figure out what to make for dinner.”

  Carl accepted the lie easily, which didn’t sit well with her. It was just another thing about this relationship that felt off. Everything between them was surface-y. He took whatever she said at face value and didn’t seem compelled to dig much deeper than that.

  Lela stiffened her spine, realizing what she had to do. Lorelie was right. It was time to break up with Carl.

  He led her to a booth along the wall, claiming the side facing the front door and most of the restaurant while she took the other. Her view was of a few empty back tables and the kitchen. He always took the best seat. Her irritation flared as she studied the swinging door to the kitchen. At least she’d be the first to know when their food was coming. If they made it that far into the meal.

  Now that she’d decided to end the relationship, she was anxious to get it over with. No reason to dawdle. She’d just say the words.

  God. The next few minutes were bound to be uncomfortable.

  Carl was an easygoing guy. She’d never seen him ruffled…ever. She used to think that was an admirable quality, but now she viewed it as a flaw. He wasn’t passionate about anything—not his job, politics, sports or her. He just traveled through life, strolling along the path of least resistance. Just once, she wished he’d get pissed off, throw something, cry at the end of a sad movie or book. Do something to prove he possessed some sort of emotion.

  Instead, he just smiled that same affable smile. She felt a bit like smacking him just to see if he’d still offer her that plastered-on grin.